Almost Too Perfect To Last
by WhiteFerrets
Summary: Prom's over but Brittany isn't going to let Santana leave, not yet, not without a dance. Post-Prom Brittana Fluff.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.  
>Spoilers: Up to Prom Queen (S02E20)<strong>

**A/N: I wrote this, meh, about two hours after Prom Queen aired? I'd say that was roughly accurate. I uploaded it to tumblr and I intended to upload it here, though I never got round to it. I had several plot bunnies hopping around in my head so I asked my girlfriend which pairing I should write about, and she chose Brittana, so this was created. It got me out of a bad case of writers' block, so it's not fantastic, but ... oh well.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

><p>Prom is over, almost everyone has left the school, and the night air is cool on Santana's arms as she sits on the curb by Dave's car. Her head is resting on her knees and her eyes are closed as she waits. It seems silly, really, how she can party until five in the morning with her friends and still feel wide awake, yet a couple of hours with her classmates and peers exhausts her completely.<p>

"You're still here," a voice says from behind her and Santana lifts her head, not facing the girl. It isn't a question, but Santana answers it anyway.

"Obviously."

"Where's Karofsky?" Brittany asks, wrinkling her nose as she says the name.

"I don't know, somewhere in the school." Santana sighs and kicks a stone on the ground of the car park. It hits Dave's tyre. "I've been here twenty-five minutes."

"Stand up." Brittany nudges Santana's bum with the toe of her shoe and Santana groans in complaint.

"Britt, I'm tired."

"Just stand up."

Sighing, Santana stands and turns to face Brittany, staring at her blankly. Brittany silently holds a hand out to Santana, and when Santana doesn't take it, she moves it closer. Reluctantly, Santana laces her fingers with Brittany's and lets the blonde girl pull her towards the school gym.

"Why are we going back there? Is Karofsky looking for me or something?"

"I don't know where your _boyfriend_ is," Brittany says coldly, squeezing Santana's hand tightly. "But I'm not going home until I spend some time with you. I'm not letting my junior prom go to waste."

"Britt, you're not making sense."

Brittany tugs Santana back into the gym, not stopping until they're right in the middle of the room. It's almost empty aside from a few members of the prom committee, who are taking down the decorations, and a couple of girls who are sitting on the floor in the corner of the room and talking in whispers. Streamers, popped balloons and broken paper cups litter the floor. A stereo near the stage is playing music softly and Santana's eyes feel heavy as she looks around.

She can't remember the last time she saw the room so empty, and it looks _so huge_ that she feels silly for feeling for suffocated and cramped throughout the past few hours.

"What are we doing?"

"I want to dance with the real Prom Queen," Brittany says and pulls Santana close just as one song fades out and another one begins. Brittany presses her cheek against Santana's and starts to sway to the music. She speaks again, her voice a whisper, and Brittany's breath against Santana's ear gives Santana goosebumps. "I want to dance with _my_queen."

"No, Britt, I can't, people are-"

"-On their way home," Brittany cuts in, shaking her head at Santana. "No one is paying attention to us. No one cares. Now dance with me."

She pulls Santana in again and part of Santana is _so_ afraid of being caught. This isn't a quickie in the girls' changing room or making out on a three-way date. This is so much more personal, but so very public, and so very scary. This doesn't say _slut, _it says _lesbian,_and that's enough to make Santana want to push Brittany away and run from the room.

She doesn't though, she just stares at Brittany and bites her lip. Eventually, she takes a step forward and nods slowly. Brittany smiles and puts her hands on the small of Santana's back, pulling her close. Santana's arms move instinctively, wrapping around Brittany's shoulders so her hands rest against Brittany's shoulder blades. She presses her face against Brittany's, her chin on Brittany's shoulder.

They sway softly to the music, turning in slow circles. It can't really be called dancing but it's soothing and Santana can feel herself begin to relax in Brittany's arms. Her eyes droop closed and she feels _so _ridiculously calm that she could drift off right there if she wanted to, swaying against Brittany.

Brittany starts singing along to the music, even when there are no lyrics, just harmonizing with the tune under her breath. Santana shivers against her and Brittany holds Santana tighter, protecting her, warming her. Santana smiles lazily.

The song finishes and another starts, slightly faster this time, and the girls manage to sink into the new beat without a glitch. All the pain washes away, there's no anger or bitterness or resentment, no fear or carefulness. It's just them. It's just Brittany, Santana and their feelings for each other, and it's beautiful.

Seconds turn in minutes, the minutes begin adding up, songs change, but they're in their own little bubble, an entirely different world, and they don't even notice the time passing. Their legs begin to ache and without communicating, they decide to stop.

They don't let go, though, clinging onto each other in the middle of the almost deserted school gym. Santana hides her face in Brittany's shoulder, hugging her tighter, inhaling the fading smell of her perfume. Brittany rests her cheek against Santana's hair, so happy to be able to just hold Santana in her arms.

"Santana?" a voice asks from across the room, echoing off the walls, tight and demanding.

She looks up and lets out a shaky breath as disappointment hits her gut like a bag of bricks. "Dave," she says, staring at him. He stands in the doorway, crown still on his head and prom sceptre clenched in his left hand.

"We were just-"

"He knows, Britt," Santana says quietly, pulling back from the embrace and biting her lip.

"Knows what?" Brittany asks, frowning.

"That I'm … _y'know_."

"Lebanese?"

Santana smiles and looks down, smoothing down non-existent crinkles in her prom dress. "Yeah."

"Santana, come on, I want to get home," Dave says, he sounds almost nervous, and Santana bites back a sigh. Every single time she's talked with Brittany over the past few weeks, she's wanted Dave to come sweeping in and pull her away. Now, the one time she never wants to let Brittany go, he ruins the moment. Just fucking _typical_.

Santana looks up at Brittany and gives her a tight smile, nodding goodbye as she walks past her. Brittany's hand shoots out and grabs Santana's wrist, pulling her back.

"Wait," she says, at the same time Dave says "Come on." though his request goes ignored by the girls.

Brittany pulls her top hat headband out of her hair and slowly pushes it onto Santana's head, smiling at her encouragingly. Her hands fall onto Santana's and Santana mouths "Thank you", squeezing Brittany's hand before stepping back and walking away.

Thank you for the headband, thank you for the dance, thank you for being my best friend, thank you for letting me fall in love with you. So many unspoken endings to two simple words, all relevant and none of them needing to be shared.

Brittany wraps her arms around herself as she watches her best friend leave with a man she claims to love. Her heart low and her spirits lower, Brittany follows them out moments later and waits at the side of the road for her dad. How could something that took so much effort to create be destroyed in an instant? How could a moment so perfect be shattered so easily? It isn't fair.

As Brittany kicks stones onto the road, she makes a decision, a decision that sets itself in stone the moment it pops into her head — she _will_ get that perfect moment with Santana, she _will_ spend a night with her that really means something, a night with no interruptions, just them and the music.

Brittany _will_ get her girl. No matter what.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are appreciated, but please keep in mind that this is a oneshot and I have no intention on continuing. <strong>


End file.
